


The Giving Of Affection

by ialpiriel



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Painful Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 11:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5826397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ialpiriel/pseuds/ialpiriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>F!Survivor has some troubles with sex. Curie offers reassurance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Giving Of Affection

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on the [fallout kink meme](http://falloutkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6855.html?thread=17919175#t17919175)

“I would very much like to return the favor,” Curie says, sit up, leans forward to press a chaste kiss to Mira’s lips. The matress creaks under their shifting weight, unexceptional surrounded by the soft sounds of the others in the outbuildings of the co-op.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” Mira laughs, rubs her hands up and down Curie’s upper arms.

“I would like to make you feel good,” Curie insists. She rests her hands above Mira’s hips, adjusts her own stance so she’s sitting on her heels. “Please, allow me to do this thing.”

“Well,” Mira starts, then stops. Furrows her brow, looks away. Licks her lips, darts a glance back to Curie’s face. Curie’s eyes are wide, her face earnest and open. “Alright,” She agrees. “Let me get my underwear off. Sit back a little.”

Curie obliges, scoots back on her knees as Mira tucks her legs up, wiggles her underwear down off her hips and over her butt, rolls it down off her thighs. Mira spreads her legs wide as she tosses her underwear over the edge of the bed, and Curie kneels between her thighs. Bends down to kiss her again, gentle press of lips to lips. Presses more kisses, down Mira’s chin and throat and breastbone, across the soft skin of her ribs below her breasts, down over the fine hair around her belly button, stops _kissing_ and drags her lips as she goes lower still. She presses her hands into Mira’s thighs before pulling them back, parting Mira’s outer lips with her thumbs and settling onto her stomach.

“This is good, yes?” Curie asks, looks up from under long lashes.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Mira agrees, grins down at her. Ruffles one hand through Curie’s hair, against the grain, so it sticks up at odd angles and falls flat at odder ones. Curie manages a mock glare for a half second before she turns her gaze downward again, purses her lips and presses a chaste kiss to the hood of Mira’s clit. Mira hums, deep in her chest, runs her hand through Curie's hair again. “Keep going,” she urges.

“Certainly!” Curie agrees, adjusts her thumbs to spread Mira’s inner lips too. Presses another kiss just below Mira’s clit, adjusts her fingers so one hand is free. “One finger is amenable, yes?”

“Yeah, let’s start with that,” Mira agrees. Her legs shift on either side of Curie, and she lifts her hand from Curie's hair to stretch her arms above her head. She breathes in once, deep, breathes out, slow and gusty. Lets her muscles go soft.

“Please relax, love,” Curie murmurs, kisses on the hood of Mira's clit again. 

“I am,” Mira replies, smiles down at Curie.

Curie crooks one finger, presses gently against Mira’s opening.

Mira breathes in, then out, breathes in again, her breath catching as Curie gently presses her finger in. Bites her lip and yelps as Curie tries to push further.

“Stop, stop, stop,” she gasps, wiggles away, one hand on Curie’s forehead, pushing her back. “Ow, ow.”

Curie sits bolt upright, fear in her eyes. She pats her hands across Mira’s thighs, clutches at Mira’s knees.

“Are you hurt? Have I caused you harm?”

“No, no, I--” and her breath catches in her throat, finally shudders out as she tries to clamp down a cry. “I thought maybe it would be different, now. With you, or after two hundred years, or after having a baby, or, or, I don’t know.” She breathes out again, can hear the shiver of her lungs. “I don’t know,” she repeats, voice small.

“ _Mon amie, mon amie, mon amoureuse_ , what is the matter?” Curie knee-walks over Mira’s thigh, settle beside her, presses hip to hip and thigh to thigh, bends so her shoulder rests in Mira’s armpit and her arm wraps around Mira’s back. “Please, speak with me. What have I done?”

“It’s not you,” Mira replies. “It’s me. I--I had trouble with. That sort of thing. Even before the war. Even before Shaun.” She leans her head against Curie’s, breathes in, breathes out. Ruffles Curie’s hair with her breath, loops her arm over Curie’s bony shoulders. Rocks side to side, enough that Curie leans into her a little more. “I was starting to get better, but--” She stops again, swallows loud, breathes out. “I don’t know what to do now,” she says, voice so soft it’s barely above a whisper.

Curie lays her palm across Mira’s knuckles, presses Mira’s hand into her collarbone. Tucks her bottom lip in, rolls it between her teeth. 

“It has certainly been described in the medical literature,” she says slowly. “I am certain there are treatments,” she adds, just as slowly. “But _mon amoureuse_ , I hold a great love and respect for you no matter what difficulties we may have.” Curie nods once, chews her lip for half a second before releasing it again. “My affection for you is not conditional, _mon amour_.”

Mira is quiet for a long minute, the only sounds those of their breathing, together, apart, apart, together.

“Thank you,” she finally says. “You are--very important to me. Thank you, Curie.”

“You are certainly of great importance to me as well, my love,” Curie agrees, removes her arm from Mira's back, straightens so she can press a kiss to Mira’s cheek. “Intercourse must not necessarily involve penetration, if you would like to continue.”

“I--maybe later, Curie. I think I’m out of the mood for now.”

“Of course, my sweet. Is there another activity you wish to engage in, instead?”

“Maybe we could just sleep together,” Mira replies, pulls her hand from under Curie’s, tucks it into her lap, bumps their shoulders together. “Would you like to be held?”

“Oh, I would very much prefer to be the one doing the holding,” Curie replies, half turns so she can hold Mira’s hands in hers. “I do enjoy the giving of affection.”

Mira grins, pulls one hand from Curie's to rub at her eyes with the back of her wrist. 

“Grab that blanket would you?’ she asks, points at the ratty fleece blanket wadded up at the end of the bed. “We’ll get cold without it.”


End file.
